


Loud As Lions

by urisleys



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), F/M, M/M, Mutual Pining, Punk Eddie Kaspbrak, Soft Richie Tozier, Stan and Richie are best friends, benverly is just a side ship :(, classmates to coworkers to friends to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22312024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/urisleys/pseuds/urisleys
Summary: Being desperately in love with someone who barely acknowledges your existence only ever ends badly, but that doesn’t stop Richie Tozier from falling in love with Eddie Kaspbrak.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	Loud As Lions

**Author's Note:**

> 110% inspired by this tweet https://twitter.com/riotfiims/status/1216199451905183745?s=21

“Earth to Tozier?”

Fingers snapped in front of Richie’s face, pulling him out of his lovestruck daze focused on the boy sitting across the other side of the cafeteria with his friends.

“Huh— Oh, what is it, mother?”

Beverly smacked the backside of his head in response, stealing a chip right out of Richie’s hand as she pushed back to the topic at hand, “Call me that again, Trashmouth. What do you think?”

“About what?” Richie pushed the bridge of his glasses up, looking around at his friends. “Stan’s new haircut? It’s ugly, what next?”

That earned a glare from Stanley, who rolls his eyes impossibly far into the back of his head with a huff, “Shut _up_ , I didn’t even get a haircut. She was asking about homecoming.”

“What about homecoming?”

“We all got our tickets already, but I still need an outfit, and I’m guessing so do the rest of you.”

“We’re going to homecoming? I thought that was for, like... losers. Not like, us losers, but you know— The general population of Derry that isn’t us, those losers.”

Mike tilted his head, gaze turning up from the book in his lap to land on Richie.

“Richie, you and I bought our tickets together last week.”

“Oh, shit? We did, didn’t we?”

“So, you’re going,” Beverly gave him a pointed look. “Good. Are you going to come shopping with us after school?”

A single corner of Richie’s mouth quirked up, lips pursing. “I have work. Raincheck to Friday?”

“As long as you don’t stand us up again, _Richard_.”

Richie grinned at that, attention fading once again from his friends and attaching to the boy from earlier. Eddie Kaspbrak. He was mid-laugh, a sound Richie was sure he would be able to hear if he were just a few inches closer, and a large smile was plastered to his face, hands wiping at his eyes from what Richie could assume were tears of laughter. He’d recently bleached his hair an obnoxious platinum at the tips that somehow worked for him, and Richie’s long living crush on the other boy only grew when Eddie showed up to school one day with his new look, still adorned with his usual dose of dark clothes and black eyeliner.

Richie could remember Eddie from before he became all punk and edgy, a short and hyperactive sixth grader that wore brightly colored polo shirts and couldn’t be seen without an inhaler— even then, Richie had the _biggest_ crush on him, gushing about him to Stan every moment he had until Stan was tired of hearing about it. Now, sixteen years old and eleventh graders, Richie still harbored all his feelings for the other boy and continued to bother his friends with that fact whenever he got the chance. ( “I am in love, Beverly.” “So I’ve been told, Richard.” )

It was all a fruitless effort, anyway, so Richie made no attempts in trying to get Eddie to notice him. He’d gone by years of being near invisible to all of Derry despite his loud mouth, and if that weren’t enough, Richie couldn’t just expect Eddie to _be gay_ — Statistics showed that he was most likely straight, as Stan helpfully pointed out on several occasions since sixth grade, and Richie was totally fine with that. That was totally okay! He didn’t mind pining over someone who barely knew he existed.

And so, wiping down sticky machines at the local arcade for minimum wage, Richie didn’t mind that his attention focused solely on Eddie Kaspbrak the second he walked through the doors with his friends, loud bickering mingling with the rest of the noise in the small space.

“Ow, Eds! Don’t pinch me!”

“I didn’t pinch you, fucknut! Why would I pinch you? That was obviously Ben.”

Richie noted the fact that Eddie was in the middle of his two friends, the snicker falling from his lips catching the attention of the trio.

“See? Even he knows th-that’s bullshit and we just got here two seconds ago.”

“Bill, _shut up_ ,” Eddie elbowed his friend, starting off in the direction of Mortal Kombat with a glance back at the employee and a small wave. “Hey, Richie.”

Richie was struck silent for the second time that day, the other boy far gone by the time he realized Eddie talked to _him_ , but he was too buzzed on being acknowledged to care that all he got out was an embarrassingly wide smile as Eddie walked away. So maybe Eddie _did_ know who he was— To be fair, he and his friends frequented Richie’s place of work, so they had to have known him to some extent. He didn’t let that take away from the fact that Eddie said hey to him, though.

Richie didn’t see Eddie or his friends for the rest of his shift until it started getting dark and time to close up shop, kicking everyone out as politely as he could manage, no matter how badly he really wanted to yell, “Everyone, get the shit out of here!”

He liked having this job, and he already got a warning the last time he inappropriately kicked people out.

“Wait for me outside, I gotta do something real quick— Do _not_ leave me again, or I will fucking bite you.”

Bill and Ben left at that, disgusted looks on their faces at the notion of Eddie threatening to bite them, as Eddie stopped in front of the counter Richie was sat behind.

“Richie, hey— I have this,” Eddie pulled a folded up few pages of paper out of his pocket, pushing it across the counter to the other boy. “Walter told me to give it to you next time I came in, it’s the rest of my paperwork.”

“Paperwork?”

“Oh! Yeah, I applied here a couple days ago and he said I got the job as soon as I bring in the last of my paperwork. So, here it is.”

Eddie was— Eddie was going to start working here? At the arcade? With _Richie_? That was... Walter did not tell him about this. The news was good news, Richie had been swamped working by himself for the last few months since his coworker quit, and obviously Richie was glad that it was Eddie he would be working with, but Richie genuinely did not know how he would be able to focus and actually do his job while Eddie was around. He couldn’t even take his eyes off of him long enough during lunch to eat all of his food.

“Cool, cool,” Richie took the small stack of folded papers, placing them with the rest of Walter’s paperwork pile under the counter. “When do you start?”

“Uh, two days, I think. Thursday?”

Eddie shrugged.

“I’ll see you then, Rich! If I don’t leave now, Bill and Ben will leave me and I’ll have to bite them later, which none of us want. Bye!”

“Bye, Eddie.”

“Oh, you’re screwed.”

“Yes, Beverly, I know!” Richie hid his face in his hands, pushing his English paper away from him on his desk. “How the fuck will I work? Have you _seen_ him?”

“I have.”

“So you know this will be impossible for me to survive! Bev, he’s so fucking cute.”

In his gay panic, Richie was thinking of Eddie even more than usual, thinking of how he would see him nearly everyday now and how they would inevitably get closer and how he would probably somehow get even more whipped and— Could he _handle_ liking Eddie more than he already does?

“Who knows, maybe spending so much time with your dumbass will make him fall in love with you instead of what it would do to most people.”

“What would it do to most people?”

“Make them want to punch you.”

“Oh! Nice burn, Molly! You got me good!”

Beverly flipped him off before turning back to her paper, pencil scribbling a half-assed analysis of Hamlet while Richie continued to ignore the assignment, too busy worrying about his work predicament. He could deal with pining after Eddie from a distance, at least that way his hopes could never really get too high, but working in such a close proximity to him _multiple_ days a week? He didn’t know how he would survive the first day with Eddie.

“Oh, shit, I just remembered. Rich, I got asked out to homecoming.”

“The fuck? You talk to people besides Mike and Stan?”

“Yeah, I do, asshole,” Beverly rolled her eyes. “It was, uh... It was Ben.”

“We were supposed to all go as friends. What the dick, Bev— Do you even like Ben? How do you even know him?”

“We have... don’t you dare say a thing, we have chemistry together.”

Richie let out a snort, eyebrows lifting suggestively, “Ooh, you have _chemistry_? That’s so romantic. How has he not asked you out sooner?”

Beverly punched his arm.

“Shut up. You better be nice.”

“Who, me? When am I not nice?” He fluttered his eyelashes at her, smiling innocently. “I would _never_ say anything bad to Benny-boy.”

“I cannot stand you.”

The rest of class went as expected, Richie messing with Beverly about Ben, Beverly hitting him every time in response. Lunch rolled around soon enough, nothing unusual from any other day— The only difference being Richie’s incessant whining about work and Eddie and _why me_. Stan had given him the upside that he could finally appreciate Eddie without staring at him from across the lunchroom like a creep, which Richie admittedly found helpful despite his groan and sarcastic words snapped in response. That’s how the rest of his day and the next day at school went, Richie panicking over his shift with Eddie at work and his friends trying to comfort him while still reminding him that he’s an idiot.

It never once crossed Richie’s mind what it might mean if Ben spent homecoming with Beverly and the rest of their friends, that it might mean _his_ friends will spend homecoming with them, too. That it might mean Eddie and Bill will spend homecoming with them, with Richie. He was too oblivious for his own good.

“This shirt makes me feel like a fucking nerd. How do you wear this?”

Richie looked down at his pastel yellow polo with the arcade’s logo on the pocket, the rest of the shirt hidden by an oversized off-white sweater and tucked into his jeans. Did he look like a nerd? He suddenly remembered the thick, large wire rimmed glasses framing his eyes and concluded, _yes, I probably do look like a nerd_. Eddie, however, did not look like a nerd, despite how he might feel. It was hard for him to look like a nerd with eyes lined black, baggy jeans falling off his hips, and chains dangling from anywhere he could get them to hang from. It was probably physically impossible for Eddie to look like a nerd with his hair alone.

“You should have seen the uniform before it was just the yellow shirt. We had to wear the _ugliest_ fucking fitted khakis and safety shoes,” Richie’s lips pressed into a line as he continued sweeping. “Didn’t you used to wear shirts like these all the time back in middle school?”

Eddie grimaced.

“That was when my mom bought my clothes. Do not remind me.”

“Aw, when your mommy bought your clothes? How _cute_.”

He couldn’t resist, it was in Richie’s nature to make fun of people, and the scowl on Eddie’s face was cute so he figured he’d keep poking fun at him until the other got sick of him. Eddie simply threw him a middle finger, going back to wiping down the windows to get ready for opening.

Once kids and teenagers started piling in, Richie and Eddie took their places behind the counter to watch over the arcade and make sure nothing got broken— That was their main duty, aside from cleaning. They pretty much had the freedom to do whatever they wanted until closing or until someone made a mess, and for Richie, that usually meant working on homework or doodling to pass the time by himself. Now, though, he wasn’t by himself and had another human being he could actually _talk_ to and use for entertainment.

“What the fuck is that?”

“You’ve _never_ seen Labyrinth? How the fuck have you never seen Labyrinth?”

“I’ve never even heard of this shit, Eds.”

“Don’t call me Eds,” Eddie crumpled up the hangman paper into a ball and threw it into the nearest trashcan. “That movie is iconic, Richie. _Iconic_. You’ve gotta see it at least once.”

“Yeah, yeah. Rent it for me at Blockbuster and I’ll consider. Now, back to the game.”

“The game you’re losing.”

“I’m not losing a game.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You actually are, though.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Richie, you haven’t gotten one point.”

“Irrelevant.”

“I swear to _god_ —“

Perhaps the night ended with Eddie smacking Richie upside the head.

Richie gushed about Eddie and that night throughout every period the next day at school, thoroughly annoying his best friends to no end even as they entered the old strip mall once school was out.

“You don’t _understand_ , guys. We didn’t stop talking once last night— He even hit me like you guys do when I’m being annoying, like we’re _friends_!”

Stan gave a strong slap to the back of Richie’s head, “Like this?”

“Exactly like that!”

The group of friends rolled their eyes collectively when Richie’s grin only widened at the act of assault to his head, turning into the closest thing to a fancy store Derry had to offer. Beverly and Richie immediately set off in the direction of dresses to start looking for her, Stan and Mike walking off towards the blazers and dress pants.

“If you grab anything orange, I will personally deck you.”

Richie dropped the puffy, bright orange dress in his hands back onto the rack, smiling cheekily, “Yes, mom.”

Beverly squinted at him before returning her attention to the rack, ignoring Richie as he resumed rambling about Eddie and how great he is, giving the occasional hum to make him feel like he was being listened to.

“Like, I know his hair looks kinda stupid, but it just works for him, you know? I— Oh, this is pretty. Bev, try this one on.”

She eyed the powder blue cami dress that suspiciously resembled an outfit she’s seen in Richie’s closet before, but decided he was right, it was pretty, and took it from his hands. Throwing the few dresses she gathered over her shoulder, she nodded towards the men’s section where Stan and Mike were, “Go talk to them about the love of your life while I try these on, loser.”

Richie made kissy lips at Bev as she walked away, turning on his heel and starting towards the opposite end of the store.

“I’m nuh-not here to give fashion advice, just letting you know that first, but the p-purple jacket is, like, super discounted right now and kinda, I d-don’t know, looks like it would s...s-suit you?”

Richie looked at Bill in confusion as he approached his friends and the other boy standing by the blazers, “Where’d you come from?”

Bill pointed to his name-tag.

“I wuh-work here, Richie.”

“Oh! That makes sense,” Richie nods, “M’kay, then. What are we talking about?”

“Stan doesn’t think he can pull off purple. Richie, tell Stan he can pull of purple.”

“Do I look like I want Richie’s opinion, Mike?”

Richie clutched his chest, feigning hurt, “You wound me, Staniel. After all I’ve done for you, you treat me this way? This is why I’m taking the kids, Stanley.”

“I can s-s— fuck, s-see why Eddie won’t stop fucking talking about you n-now,” Bill pushed the lilac blazer into Stan’s hands as he spoke, throwing his words out slowly. “You’re a f-fucking piece of work, according to these two.”

About to respond in offense to his friends making him out to be a piece of work, the words fell off Richie’s tongue when his brain finally registered that Bill just said _Eddie talks about him_. His hopes momentarily jumped to their highest levels yet, the insecure part of him being drowned out by _oh my fucking god, he talks about me_. Richie can’t even find it in himself to think anything coherent past holy shit.

“Eddie talks about me?”

“Yeah,” Bill grabbed another jacket off the rack, this one navy, and handed it to Mike. “He said you dropped your g-goldfish all over the floor. M-Mike, you should try this wuh-one.”

Huh. Well, he could have said worse things about him. Richie was still too ecstatic about Eddie talking about him, he didn’t even care what the content of the conversation was.

“I’ll go grab th-the matching slacks. I’m just guessing your sizes, b-but you can come back and f-find me if they don’t fit. Remember, anything muh-marked red is on sale.”

“Thank you, Bill,” and “Thanks, Bill,” were said in unison as Bill walked away, the pair turning to Richie once Bill was out of sight.

“So,” Mike started. “How you feeling?”

“Like I’m gonna shit my pants.”

Stan grimaced, “Disgusting. Tell us how you really feel, you overgrown monkey.”

“I’m not overgrown! You’re just short,” Richie huffed, the child in him coming out in a pout followed by a slowly growing grin. “I’m fucking great, guys. Did you hear Bill? Eddie talks about me! Sure, it may be about me being clumsy, but who fucking cares? I made an impression, fuckers, and that’s all that matters.”

“I’m happy for you, man.”

“ _Thank you_ , Michael. At least someone is,” Richie side-eyed Stan, who was rolling his eyes and looking off with his signature annoyed expression.

“Tozier, Hanlon, Uris, come here!” Bev shouted across the empty store for her friends, waiting for them to come to her. “How does this look? Richie picked it out, so I’m not sure if I can trust my own opinion, because I’m kinda liking it a lot.”

“You look great, Bev.”

“Thank you, Mike. Stan, what about— Why is Richie smiling like that?”

Before Stan could give out his answer to avoid having to talk about Eddie for _the ninetieth time_ that day, Richie threw out, “He talks about me. Eddie talks about me to his friends, Bev.”

“Oh, I thought this would be something important. Good for you, Richie. Stan, what do you think?”

“It’s pretty, the color matches your eyes.”

“Are we all just going to ignore the fact that Eddie talks about me to Bill?”

The thing about this that Richie didn’t know was that his friends had certain opinions about Eddie, ones that Richie probably wouldn’t like. They were all for letting Richie have his pining from a distance trope, encouraging him and giving him hope something might happen, but always secretly hoping themselves that nothing would come of it. Eddie seemed like a nice enough guy, and they liked his friends already, but there were too many rumors and too much of a tainted reputation for them to let their most naïve friend get involved with him seriously. Did they believe all the rumors? Of course not, but no one gets _that_ many rumors spread about them without some basis of truth. They just wanted to protect their best friend.

“Richie,” Beverly started. “I— I’m glad to hear that, but we’ve been talking about Eddie for the past two days. Can we, maybe, drop it for a second? I wanna see all of your outfits.”

“Oh. Yeah, right. I never actually looked for myself, so I’ll just— I’ll go do that now,” Richie offered an awkward, closed mouth smile. “Hey, by the way, I told you you’d look good in that.”

He turned around at that and went to go look at suits for himself, letting his friends try on their own clothes in peace without having to listen to him go on and on about his stupid crush.

_Nice going, dickwad._

Richie eventually found an outfit that worked for him, as did his friends who all ended with the first choices they were given, and they finally left the stuffy store with a wave goodbye to Bill.

The entirety of the following week, Richie had been off, everyone noticed. He knew Beverly meant no harm in asking him not to talk about Eddie so often, but little things always got in his head and stayed there for a while if he let them, like if someone reacts to his jokes awkwardly or if he gets called out in class when he doesn’t know the answer. It was one of his worst character flaws, and it always got the best of him for as long as he felt ashamed or embarrassed after any instance. His friends knew he got like that, so every time, they just tried to make him feel better by laughing extra hard at his jokes or reminding him that they love him, each in their own way.

Eddie, however, did not know he got like that and did not know how to handle the situation of a sad, unresponsive Richie quietly doing his homework everyday at work instead of talking to him.

Leaned back in his chair, Eddie threw an eraser at Richie’s head to get his attention, whispering, “Pst. Hey, Rich.”

Richie lifted his head and turned to Eddie, the semi-permanent frown that’s been stuck to his face for the past week still present as he tilted his head.

“Yes, Eddie?”

“You wanna talk about why you look so down, maybe?”

“No, Eddie.”

“Why not?”

_Maybe because the reason is that I talked about you too much and pissed my friends off for doing so._

“I’m not really in the mood, Eds.”

“C’mon, Richie,” Eddie sat up straight in his seat, scooting up so he was closer to Richie. (Richie pretended he didn’t care at all that Eddie was in such close proximity to him now.) “You really wanna be all sad for homecoming tomorrow? I heard we’re all going together.”

Hold on, _what_? Richie completely forgot about homecoming, and completely forgot Bev was going with Ben, and completely disregarded how that could have meant they would be going to homecoming with Ben’s friends— Bill and Eddie. _How_ did Richie not connect that?

“Oh, I forgot about that. You— You’re coming too?”

“No shit,” Eddie breathed out a short laugh. “Why would I skip homecoming? I got the best outfit for tomorrow! I am solid as long as they play at least _one_ decent song the whole night. You’re still coming though, right?”

“Yeah, the ticket and suit were too expensive for me to just drop it because of a bad mood.”

“Cool, I’ll make sure you have a good time then, yeah?” Eddie threw an arm around Richie’s shoulders. “There will be no sad Richie on my watch— And, if Ben can really get his hands on his dad’s shit, hopefully there won’t be a sober Richie, or any of us, either.”

It didn’t lift his spirit entirely, but it was something he had to look forward to, and that brought the slightest of smiles to Richie’s face for the first time that week. He was less silent after that, but still remained quiet as he continued working on his homework and listening to Eddie talk nonsense to distract him until it was time to close.

“See you tomorrow, Richie!”

Then Eddie was off on his skateboard with a wave goodbye to Richie, who was unchaining his bike from the rack and returning the wave as Eddie disappeared from his line of sight. Tomorrow would be good. He won’t be able to talk about Eddie to Eddie, so that at least solved his insecurities about talking too much around his friends. Plus, he’ll be with his best friends and longterm crush, so it _had_ to be good.

“Is that a fucking minivan?”

Richie stared at the car in his front yard filled with his friends and the other three boys, a judgmental look across his face.

Ben, sat in the driver’s seat with his window rolled down, shrugged.

“How else do we transport seven people? Bill’s pickup truck?”

“Touché,” Richie didn’t bother commenting further on how embarrassing it was going to be for them to show up to school in a minivan, and squeezed into the backseat next to Beverly.

Eddie peeked over from the other side of Bev with a grin and a wave, “Hey, Rich!“

“Hi, Eds,” Richie shot back a strained smile in response. “You look nice— All of you look good, actually. What the fuck? Stanley, you don’t look like a prude for once.”

Unexpectedly, Stan had a small smile on his face as he rolled his eyes and shook his head, middle finger automatically lifting for Richie.

“Shut up, Richie.”

“Yes, sir.”

Everyone was glad to see Richie closer to his normal self than he’d been all week, cracking jokes the whole ride to the dance and acting like his usual annoying self again.

“No, I’m serious guys, I’m in love with Mrs. Uris. Stan, be quiet, I’ll be in charge of you soon— Jesus fuck, that hurt! Don’t punch me, shithead.”

Ben and Bill learned a lot about Richie within that short ten minute drive.

“Okay, we’re here. You can get off of me now, Richie,” Beverly shoved the boy clinging to her towards the door, ushering him to get out of the car. “I swear to god, Richie, get out.”

The group of friends flowed out of the minivan, pushing through the gym entrance and showing chaperones their tickets before walking into the dance together. Derry High School was past cheesy homecoming themes, scarcely decorated with white and blue balloons and streamers that were unbelievably underwhelming, a single banner hanging over a makeshift stage reading “DHS Homecoming ‘92” above the old party DJ placed centerstage.

“Oh, this is nice,” Richie mumbled sarcastically, hands stuffing into his pockets as his friends all scattered into the middle of the pit of students, following behind them. “Nothing like the view of pubescent heterosexuals sucking face.”

“Beep beep, Richie.”

“What, am I wrong?”

“Beep beep.”

About thirty minutes into the dance, Richie got tired of dancing — literally, he was heaving out exhausted breaths from jumping around ironically to the top 100 pop hits far too intensely — and left the pit, finding the refreshment table and downing two small cups of punch immediately.

“Why would you possibly drink from that punch bowl? Do you _know_ how many people’s hands have gotten near that? Oh, and slow down. You could choke and die, probably.”

Richie’s gaze lifted at the voice, choking on his drink in perfect timing before setting his cup down and wiping at his mouth, a sheepish smile on his face as he coughed.

“I swear I wouldn’t have choked if you didn’t say I would choke, Eds.”

“I didn’t say you would choke,” Eddie grabbed a napkin off the table and handed it to Richie, stepping in place next to him. “I said you _could_ choke.” Before Richie could retaliate, “I forgot to say this earlier, but you— uh, look good, too. Your suit is nice.”

Richie was, truthfully, usually insecure about the way he looked and how he dressed, so this took him aback. Already seen as a dork to the whole town, Richie always felt worse about his clothing choices because they tended to make him look _even more_ like a dork— He believes the words _gay nerd_ were thrown around specifically a few times by Bowers and other dumb Derry assholes. So, clad in a plaid beige blazer that was a few sizes too big, matching pants high up his waist with a red t-shirt tucked underneath, Richie was thankful _someone_ thought he looked nice for once. It helped that the someone happened to be Eddie.

“Thanks,” Richie coughed into the napkin, finally catching his breath from his choking fit. “But you were right yesterday when you said you had the best outfit, this shit looks — mind my grandma vocabulary — breathtaking.”

He knew that was one of the stupidest ways he could have worded that, but in all honesty, Eddie looked fucking amazing. He always looked good to Richie, but tonight, in a full on _suit_ , he really did look what Richie would call breathtaking. Sure, the black suit might have been far too big and baggy for his small frame, an oversized black and white striped shirt and his usual chains underdressing the whole fit, but god, was it a _look_. To make matters even better, his spiked hair was traded in for natural curls, making him look so fucking _soft_ despite the rest of him. Richie could have gushed about him all night.

“ _Breathtaking_?” Eddie wheezed out a laugh, a wide grin taking over his features. “Thanks, I think, Rich. I’d say same, but the word breathtaking is a little too gay for me.”

Richie didn’t let his face fall at that, a forced laugh leaving his mouth despite how he felt. He knew the word _gay_ was thrown around easily nowadays, and that it generally wasn’t even in context to the actual meaning of the word, but it was rarely used in that context by someone who was gay themself— Which Richie already expected. Of course Eddie wasn’t gay. He already knew that.

“Fair enough. I’m gonna— Go back to the dance floor. You coming?”

“I think I’ll pass, I’m waiting for the good music. Have fun.”

Richie didn’t see Eddie much for the rest of the night at homecoming, but after a few hours of mindless dancing and after Ben and Bev finally got to have their slow dance, the group of friends left the dance for their own small afterparty at Ben’s, fitting back into the small minivan.

Mr. and Mrs. Hanscom were away on business, convenient for the occasion, though not a rare occurrence. The Hanscom residence was empty when the group of friends arrived, half of them immediately darting to the house’s mini bar while the other half ventured into the living room. Richie, already searching through the collection of albums and mixtapes, threw in a CD to the music player and let the loud speakers flow music throughout the house.

“Mike, my dear, grab me something to drink, please. I am parched.”

Mike tossed a beer in Richie’s direction, nearly hitting him in the face and holding back laughter when Richie all but shrieked.

“Thank you, Michael!”

The friends formed a circle in the living room, Beverly between Stan and Ben on the couch while the other four sat on the floor, Mike and Bill in the middle with Eddie and Richie on opposite ends. They all had their own choice of drink in hand, huddled close together with grins on each of their faces as they idly chatted, slowly growing closer as the night went on.

“Wait, so— Hold on, are Bev and Ben, like, a thing now?”

“Oh my god, Hanscom,” Bill paused, taking a swig of his drink. “Your f-f-first girlfriend! I’m so proud of you, man.”

Ben scrunched his face up, cheeks tinting red as he turned away from the circle, “Shut up, guys.” He vaguely pointed his bottle in the direction of the boys on the floor, “What about those two, what’s going on with that?”

Mike and Bill looked at each other confused, turning back to Ben while pointing at themselves and asking in unison, “Us?”

“No, I— Why would I mean you?” Ben furrowed his eyebrows together, facing his friends again. “I meant the gay ones.”

“I know that means me,” Richie started. “But who the fuck else are you talking about, Benjamin?”

Bill and Ben both turned their heads towards Eddie, giving him pointed looks.

A beat.

“What? I’m not— Shut up, Ben. Stop looking at me! Bill, do not fucking look at me,” Eddie crossed his arms, curling in on himself before his head shot up in realization. “Wait, Richie, you’re gay?”

“Yeah. I thought everyone knew that?”

“Oh, really?” Ben looked genuinely surprised. “I was just kidding, I didn’t know. I’m sorry— Did I just out you?”

“I was already out, so no,” Richie shrugged. “It’s kinda like if I told you Stan was a Jew and then asked if I outed him as a Jew— Everyone already knew he was a Jew in the first place, so I didn’t out him.”

“Say Jew one more time, Richie.”

Richie grinned, taking a long sip from his bottle, “I’ll stop for you, Staniel.”

“Wait, so you’re, like, actually gay?” Everyone turned to Eddie. “What?”

“Why do you care s-so much if Richie’s gay, Eds?”

“I’m curious! That’s all.”

Deciding to drop it at that for Eddie’s sake, the group continued talking late into the night until each of them eventually passed out, sleeping bodies scattered randomly throughout the Hanscom household.

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up about this fic on my twitter!!! @urisleys i am taking constructive criticism <3


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